


all that power

by hurryup



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurryup/pseuds/hurryup
Summary: “You know, I had this dream about you,” Allen said, his mouth now over Kanda's ear, his bare arm wound about Kanda's shoulder.





	

“You know, I had this dream about you,” Allen said, his mouth now over Kanda's ear, his bare arm wound about Kanda's shoulder.  
  
Kanda shifted closer. Ran his hands over Allen's sides. "Huh?"  
  
“A vivid dream," Allen went on. His tone was soft, somehow, meandering as if Allen was still caught in the folds of this dream. As if it was some ghost that possessed him still. He bit his lower lip, and went on. "It was— God. Woke up so hard."  
  
Kanda stopped, pictured Allen waking up, hot and bothered, cock throbbing. Maybe with Kanda's name on his lips. Allen Walker, soaked in sweat, biting down against his pillow, touching himself— the thought was enough to make him short-circuit. Enough to make is mouth dry up. He could practically hear the quiet sound of him, still half-lost to dreams;  _Kanda, Kanda, Kanda, please._ Something more than he could stand.  
  
_Fuck, that's hot_ , Kanda thought of saying, or, _I do, I dream about you, you and your skin, you know, there's no one else like you, no one else who looks like you—_  
  
"You're absolutely fucking rotten," Kanda said instead, blunt and hard-edged. Still, something must have shown in his wide-eyed stare to give him away, because Allen laughed. It a quiet laugh, tinged with something much like nervousness.  
  
"Look who's talking."  
  
Allen moved to lie down on his back, pulling Kanda down with him with one hand behind his neck, his chest pressed against Kanda's, their hips still moving for friction. Allen ducked up, and any attempts at conversation were momentarily interrupted by a shameless, open-mouthed kiss that went on and on until they were dizzy from lack of air. It was dirty and raw and totally bruising, Allen's tongue sweeping over Kanda's teeth.  
  
Allen's hand moved over Kanda's slick, bare back, nails dragging his skin. His cold fingers smoothed across each vertebrae, found the lean muscles of Kanda's shoulders and gripped them with a mindless fervor. It was easy to get lost in Allen's touch.  
  
Kanda broke the kiss with a rough jerk of his head, taking in Allen's expression. He thought Allen might have had his eyes squeezed shut, and he'd been wrong. Rather, like the eyes of tigers, pumas and leopards, both lids of his eyes had met slowly and lazily, fanning into a narrow strip through which only the barest flash of the iris was visible. A heady, oblique look. Dazed— as dazed as it was fuckin' seductive, though Kanda would never admit it, though he had no idea to which degree that seduction was intentional or accidental. Still, that damned look communicated one thing to Kanda, one thing that had his gut tightening in lust and his entire body lancing forwards to decorate Allen's neck with long, biting kisses. Allen wanted him. Wanted Kanda.  
  
They grinded against one another, and their cocks brushed together. Allen gasped on hitched breath into Kanda's mouth— hot words he felt more than he heard. _Kanda, Kanda, Kanda. Please._  
  
Kanda thrust against him, his cock flat against Allen's stomach, sliding up so hot against Allen's. Shit, Allen was already parting his thighs, spreading his legs like a good boy, such a fucking good boy.  
  
Yeah, it pissed Kanda off to think of Allen wanting anybody else, which is stupid, because they've never been exclusive and Kanda can't really bring himself to imagine what the hell that would be like. But— there are two wine-coloured bruises on the inner of Allen's right thigh, the sight of which was driving Kanda crazy.

There were a thousand ways, he knew, thay a person could end up with a bruise, but his mind went to all the wrong places. Pissed him off. He opened his mouth, maybe to ask him if he'd been fucking anyone else lately, but Allen beat him to the punch.

  
"Dreamt you were between my legs," Allen continued. The worst just came bursting out of him. "You were— you got me off with your mouth. Sucking me. It was, _oh_!"  
  
Allen shuddered as Kanda reached between them, wrapping a firm hand around Allen.  
  
"That so?" It felt good, rutting up against each other like this— so damn good, that Kanda felt a twinge of regret as he pulled his body away. He lifted himself to hover above Allen. Allen spread his legs wider, all kinds of coy. His chest was rising and falling, the skin flushed, and his cock was curved upwards. Mouth red and swollen, wet and perfect. Hair a pale mess. All in perfect contrast with the scar over his eye.  
  
Kanda moved down over Allen, kissing down his navel. Dragging his teeth over across his sternum and down across his lower stomach, nose brushing his skin.  
  
"Come on, beansprout, don't freeze up now," he went on, voice low. His hand closes in a fist around the base of his cock, covering a few inches there to keep him steady. "Finish telling me about the dream."  
  
Kanda leaned forwards, mouth wrapping around the tip of Allen's cock, his tongue flattening against the slit. Allen gasped loudly.  
  
“Wait, you don’t have to,” he breathed, sounding fucking turned on. Allen's hands curled in and out of Kanda's loose hair, hesitant.  
  
"Of course I don't," Kanda said. He liked how Allen tasted on his tongue. It wasn't sweet or even necessarily good, rather, a little acidic and nearly salty, but somehow, it was hot. Hotter still was Allen's open mouth, trembling thighs. Allen's grip tightened, pulling Kanda's hair so that he could feel the beginnings of a slight sting. That was... that was good. "Now talk."  
  
Then, Kanda took Allen into his mouth. He didn't think at all, then, about why or what it meant, driven only by the want to take him like this. Desperately hot. The desperate yank of Allen's hands in his hair only serving to make him harder. As he worked his mouth over Allen, licking the base, he reached down between his legs with one hand and stroked himself. Slowly, he moved to build a steady rhythm, head rising and falling as he began to blow Allen.  
  
"It felt, felt so good... woke up thinking of you, God, Kanda, I don't know what to do with myself when— _ah_!"  
  
Kanda's cheeks hollowed as he sucked on Allen's length, and suddenly, Allen's hips bucked upwards. Wild, desperate. Like he couldn't fucking stop himself from thrusting into Kanda's mouth. At that first snap, Kanda felt his throat tighten up. He closed his eyes, slowing down for only a moment before relaxing his jaw and taking it.  
  
Allen flushed, started babbling incoherent apologies. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"  
  
Kanda released Allen with a wet pop, though a string of saliva, mixed with precome, connected him still. God, that was fucking filthy. "I don't care."  
  
" _Kanda_ —"  
  
"Don't," Kanda dipped back forwards, and on a whim, pressed a kiss to the head of Allen's erection. "Don't hold back."  
  
He took Allen into his mouth, sucked him hard, and with the broken sound of a gasp Allen's hips snapped upwards, harder this time. He moved with quick, shallow thrusts into the wet heat of Kanda's mouth, his cock dragging over Kanda's tongue and against his throat. It was almost too much, almost enough to make him gag, but worth it for how hard it made him, how desperate Allen sounded, and how easy it was to let go.  
  
All the better that he didn't have to think about it, that he could just sprawl there and let Allen fuck his mouth, because he was pumping his own cock hard in his hands. Kanda could feel himself winding up tighter and tighter, climax building hot and heavy in the pit of his stomach, threatening to subsume him.  
  
"Please," Allen gasped. He writhed against the sheets. Hands all over— in his own hair, in Kanda's hair, gripping the linens. He sounded so terribly, beautifully gone.  
  
It was hard to tell, at times like these, who was really in control— but, when Kanda heard that edge of a plea in Allen's force, high and desperate and yesfuckpleasekandakandakanda _,_ he couldn't help but feel he had some kind of hold over him. Some claim to him. Kanda closed his eyes, fisted his cock at an increasingly frenetic pace. So fucking close, so fucking good—  
  
"Please, Kanda, _please_ , I'm gonna, I _can't_ —"  
  
Allen cried out, hips coming to a stuttering halt as he came, flooding Kanda's mouth. The sound, that taste is overwhelming. Everything, everything is overwhelming, and that's because Allen overwhelms everything, and Kanda came while swallowing around Allen's release, letting the pleasure ebb and flow through him and work the tension out of his body.  
  
Before Kanda could even catch his breath, Allen was tugging him back up to meet him. Kanda came up silently, a little dazed, and Allen kissed him. It was this kiss that was barely a kiss, just Allen's panting mouth against Kanda's. Tasting himself on Kanda's lips. Rotten, rotten boy. Spoiled goods. How everyone thought he was some kind of angel was beyond Kanda. He could see the rot festering in him from day one, beneath the silver-white lustre of his fair hair and eyes.  
  
They caught their breath together, collapsed against one another in this start/stopping kiss-that-wasn't-a-kiss. Kanda thought of asking if the reality matched up the dream, but that felt too ridiculous, somehow. It also occurred to him, body pressed atop of Allen's still, that Kanda could kiss Allen over and over, forever, for as long as he liked. But that too was ridiculous. And that was Allen. Too damned ridiculous. Too damned complicated.  
  
More than Kanda could stand.  
  
Allen turned his face away, pressing it now into Kanda's neck, saying nothing, still just breathing. Nestled there so beautifully you could've sworn he was meant to be there. And that was fucking damning.  
  
"You," Kanda started, then stopped short. He realized, belatedly, just how rough his voice was. There was an ache in his throat; proof in the pain. He swallowed thickly, starting over again. "You're fucking impossible."  
  
Allen lifted his head for a moment, just peeking up. His eyes had a glassy look to them.  
  
"Pisses me off just to look at you," Kanda continued.  
  
"Then don't look."  
  
Kanda couldn't find any fault with that. He tucked his head on top of Allen's. He took in the scent of sweat, sex, and something subtly sweet and specific to Allen's body. He'd never know what that scent was— never know what to call it, but it would haunt him like an old scar for as long as he lived. That heady warmth.  
  
Allen relaxed against Kanda. Pliant. Kanda thought of rivers, of deltas, of bright blooms sinking into black mud, of change, and then, finally, he thought of nothing at all. Just the sensation of Allen's rising breaths, so steady and regular Kanda found himself pressing close rather than pulling away.  
  
"Just stay here," Kanda said. "Just stay here and don't say anything else."

**Author's Note:**

> looping kanye west albums all day + taking a quick break from writing serious fic = sin
> 
> hurryupfic @ tumblr


End file.
